


Search for the Impossible

by AppleTarte (Marlemarle)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (For Fire Emblen AND Dragon Age), Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence, Dragon Age!AU, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mage!Claude, Mage!Marianne, Minor Character Death, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Noble!Hilda, Past Relationship(s), Rating May Change, Templar!Dimitri, canon typical angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlemarle/pseuds/AppleTarte
Summary: "Chief grinned at Dimitri, now shoving the contract towards him. He explained with a belly laugh that Dimitri was the best equipped to deal with mage clients, considering his templar past. Dimitri huffed. The fights have calmed down. Negotiations between mages, templars, and the Chantry had started once again, but would probably fall through yet again. No party was willing to back down from their demands and things would escalate again, leading to more unnecessary bloodshed and ruin. It was just a matter of time, really, but during the peace negotiations, the contracts that were offered by mages paid well and weren’t connected to the civil war. It created a short period where mages had the possibility to freely conduct research however, they deemed fit, but since they didn’t benefit from the protection of the templars anymore, they lacked the arms to protect them. Usually, there wasn’t much at stake. Easy money, so Dimitri signed the contract. It would be stupid not to."-The former Templar Dimitri accepts to do Mercenary work for a couple of mages and meets some familiar faces.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. Wolves and Chickens

The Blaiddyds have always been Templars, finding great pride believing that for generations they kept the public safe from mages and the mages safe from themselves. They compared mages to wolves believing to be dogs and it was difficult to turn a wolf into a dog, so they took on the dangerous task of taming the beasts, keeping them from ripping each other apart and goring the sheep. Dimitri’s father grasped his shoulder tight when his mother’s corpse was cremated, killed by a mage who agreed to a demon’s terms. Dimitri couldn’t even bring himself to cry. He barely saw her before she died. He knew her duty was dangerous. Causalities were common, there was no reason for misplaced anger. Was it the fault of the beast that only followed its instincts when ripping sheep to shreds, or the fault of the handler that let the beast lose? “You see,” His father had whispered, “A wolf can never be a dog.”

Dimitri liked to think of them as chickens rather than caged wolves. They were still allowed to be chickens, to some extent, as long as they were good, useful poultry. Their wings were clipped to keep them from flying away, kept fat and friendly by the food they were fed. Should they stop laying eggs or be too aggressive, they would be slaughtered and eaten. If their meat didn’t taste good, was too tough, the owners would complain that they were not even good enough for food.

He remembered he told Claude that. He remembered his nose scrunching up, pulling a grimace as he looked up from his book to shake his head at Dimitri, “I don’t like that analogy,” he said, closing his book, “I don’t like being compared to animals in general. A chicken will never question why it cannot fly or why the other chickens got slaughtered,” he got up from his chair to push the book back into its correct spot, “I’m also not a fucking chicken!” And with that, he left Dimitri alone in the library.

When the Mages’ rebellion began, Dimitri put down his suit of armour for good and instead worked for a mercenary company. His beliefs did not align with the order anymore. The needless slaughter and the authority complex too many of them held. He did not feel comfortable following the orders of those people. Dimitri tried to quit Lyrium, to completely sever the ties that connected him still to the Order. He couldn’t cope with the withdrawals. It left him weak, unable to work. He felt like he was dying as if his body decided to rot from the inside out when it did not get its fix. He was simply not strong enough. Pathetic and not willing to die. Not yet.

Rumour has it that smugglers were employed in his company. They were using their mercenary status to easier access the goods. He found them and they were willing to sell him Lyrium. He was able to feed his addiction.

He has not spoken to his family since. He was unsure if they even survived one of the bigger fights. It was hardly important, he told himself, they saw him as a traitor and a coward anyways. It wasn’t hard to find Dimitri – word of mouth travelled fast, they must know what he was doing and they have made their decision to not contact him, not even send a letter to the mercenary company he was working with. And Dimitri did not want to reach out to them first, fear of rejection always in the back of his head.

The leader of the company had a new contract for him, he pushed Dimitri’s share of the payment towards him first before letting him know what it was about. Counting the coin, Dimitri noticed quickly it was an offer he couldn’t reject, enough coin to let him take a good vacation for at least two years. Dimitri grumbled, shifting in his seat, and crossed his arms. He never bothered to learn the name of his boss. At least, he could just call him “chief”, it was enough to stay in his good books.

Chief grinned at Dimitri, now shoving the contract towards him. He explained with a belly laugh that Dimitri was the best equipped to deal with mage clients, considering his templar past. Dimitri huffed. The fights have calmed down. Negotiations between mages, templars, and the Chantry had started once again, but would probably fall through yet again. No party was willing to back down from their demands and things would escalate again, leading to more unnecessary bloodshed and ruin. It was just a matter of time, really, but during the peace negotiations, the contracts that were offered by mages paid well and weren’t connected to the civil war. It created a short period where mages had the possibility to freely conduct research however, they deemed fit, but since they didn’t benefit from the protection of the templars anymore, they lacked the arms to protect them. Usually, there wasn’t much at stake. Easy money, so Dimitri signed the contract. It would be stupid not to.

The mages wanted to find some artefact, required some muscles to protect them from possible creepy crawlers in the older temple. A simple fetch mission, all things considered. There was a chance darkspawns dwelled there, which explained the above-average pay, but each time Dimitri heard such warnings, it turned out to be nothing. It shouldn’t take too long before he could take his vacation. Maybe he’ll buy a house and find a way to survive off hunting and farming. Try quitting Lyirum again. Maybe it could work this time around if he had a more relaxed environment. Peace and Quiet, the nature and a good distance from the conflict. He could fully embrace loneliness or get close with the people that lived near his land. He could help them with any issues they couldn’t solve themselves and in turn, they would help him. He could take care of any beasts, any bandits, help them with any maintenance, they would gift him apples and maybe let him have a piece of pie in return. It sounded… nice, considering the rest of his life. Even if he was only fantasizing. 

The faster he fulfilled this contract, the faster he would be able to take the time off he promised himself. He felt no woes about leaving the mercenary life behind, even if it was only temporary. He got never close to any of his co-workers, never made the effort to as he had no interest in doing so. He took solo missions as often as possible. That way, he didn’t have to make sure that his co-workers survived and he did not have to share the reward. It was much easier. Less attachment. The bonds he formed and broke were still haunting him years later, it was better to not form any, especially in a business with such high turnover.

So, without much fuss, he let the chief point out on the map where he would meet the mages and went on his way minutes after.

The trip to meet the contractors was short, barely a day away on horseback. They were supposed to meet at the entrance of ancient catacombs. Catacombs that were old enough that people argued over their origins and they were falling apart. He must have walked through the world with his eyes closed, as he never noticed those ruins, as towering, imposing as they were. His nose caught a stench emanating from them that he couldn’t identify just yet. In his defence, the ruins were hidden well inside a forest, covered in moss and overgrown trees, with its walls almost reflecting the green of the nature surrounding it. It must have been the oldest building he had ever seen, barely kept together by its structure. The possibility of dying from a fallen rock was much higher than the possibility of dying from a monster. Since he worked together with mages this time, rocks crushing him to his doom were unlikely too.

His eyes spotted a small camp set up in front of it – three people gathered around a small fire pit, their backs turned on Dimitri. The mages. The contractors. At least two of them had a staff. The third person, a woman, he presumed, smaller than the other two, rested her weight on an axe and was heavily armoured. When they heard him approaching, they turned around. Brilliant green eyes locked with Dimitri’s and the smile the mage wore on his face faded immediately. Dimitri was frozen in place. _Claude._

“Oh,” Claude wrinkled his nose, just like he did back then, whenever something displeased him. Dimitri just swallowed, throat bobbing. _“It’s you,”_ he spat.

It was the same tone Claude had five years ago when he stabbed Dimitri’s eye when Dimitri stood in his way when the rebellion started and the mages were fleeing the Circle. Corpses piled up. The stench of death made Dimitri’s head pound. Two other mages hid behind Claude, who had stepped between Dimitri and them. The templar blocked the exit for them. It was his job. He needed to keep them inside, let as little mages as possible slip between their fingers, “I don’t want to hurt you, so please…” Dimitri clenched his sword, trembling. _Claude._ They would sneak to the library after curfew together. Dimitri kept the secret, watched Claude read, write, continue to research past the curfew, escorted him to his room, making it look like he brought him back after breaking the rules. _Claude,_ his first kiss in the secrecy of the garden. _Claude_ , who made him question and challenged him. _Claude,_ who wanted to run away with him, but Dimitri couldn’t, and when he couldn’t protect Claude, the mage was caught and punished. Then he stopped protecting Claude on his library trips, felt too guilty about disappointing Claude and his superiors started to eye him suspiciously, so Claude got punished again and Dimitri barely slipped by. Claude was punished for questioning, punished for mouthing off. Threatened to be turned into Tranquil. And when Dimitri stopped helping him, Claude felt betrayed. “You’re not different after all” were Claude’s last works for him before the rebellion. Where Dimitri hesitated, Claude didn’t. Suppressing the magic with his Templar abilities did not help him. Claude stabbed him with the blade of his staff to move past him. Were they even allowed to have blades at the tip of their staves? It was frightening how easy Claude cut through the templars. He shouldn’t have any combat training, then how? They hadn’t spoken in so long already at that point. How could Dimitri know? And then he passed out.

“I thought you were dead.”

That snapped Dimitri out of his head, turning to stare at Claude’s face again. His hands started to tremble, trying to read his expression, see if he was joking if it was just some dark humour, “Uhm,” was the only sound Dimitri could make. Stupid.

Claude scoffed. “So, what’s your return policy?”

“Uhm…”

“Well, you better run along, Dimitri.” Dimitri had hoped he could completely remove the memory of Claude saying his name with such disgust, but fate decided for him to hear his name uttered like that once again and be reminded of the exact day he first heard it. The moment when Dimitri tipped the scale of Claude’s favour by disappointing him just another time. “We’ll find another guy,” Claude waved Dimitri off.

“Hey, now,” the heavily armoured woman put a hand on Claude’s shoulder, “I pay for all this fun here. Mercenaries are paid upfront, and I am not sure I am willing to pay twice for your comfort.”

Claude threw his hands up in surrender, turning on his heels and moving to rest against the walls of the ruin.

“Now, since you guys know each other, you used to be a templar, correct?” She pointed an accusatory finger at Dimitri. Dimitri could only nod. She eyed him from top to bottom, calculating, analytical, just like Claude would look at people when he first met them. They were similar in that aspect.

“How is it? Going without Lyrium?”

“I didn’t stop taking it.”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking, “Marianne,” she called the other woman that was with them forward. Dimitri recognized her. She was one of the women that were with Claude when he escaped. He talked with her back in the Circle, every now and then, she was always kind. A little nervous. She liked to keep close to animals and Claude befriended her. That’s all his memory could provide him with for now. “What do you say?”

Marianne touched the woman’s arm, hiding her body half behind her, “I don’t mind,” she swallowed once, glancing at Claude, “I am fine with Dimitri escorting us. He was always kind, back in the Circle.”

The woman considered, before nodding finally. “If my dear Marianne is fine with this arrangement, then I am too.” She turned on her heel with Marianne on her arm and beckoned Dimitri to follow. Dimitri was not sure if he was relieved or even more unnerved than before. It was nice to hear that he left at least one good lasting impression. The opinion that really mattered to him was unfortunately not favourable and they were stuck together for however many days their research would take. “I am Hilda von Goneril, by the way,” she gave him a faint smile.

Dimitri should have already noticed that. He recognized the Goneril’s banner on her armour and clothing. A well-respected aristocrat family from Orlais that had its roots hundreds of years ago in warrior clans and knighthood. They had a large army at disposal. Whenever conflict arose, people would flock to them to win their favour and receive support. The Circles and the Chantry tried to, but to Dimitri’s knowledge, both had been dismissed. The family did not want to meddle in petty civil wars. At least until now. One of them harboured two mages now, even if only out of friendship and love. He hoped this would not bring trouble to her family later when the negotiations fall through. The Chantry wouldn’t appreciate her harbouring mages, even if it only was two. Someone always found out and tattled.

“Today, we rest,” Hilda took off her armour and settled down her weapon, signalling Dimitri that he had her trust for now, and motioned him to do the same. He was fed and was able to sleep in a tent for the night. Claude did not speak with him further and Dimitri did not start a conversation with him either. He had nothing worthwhile to say. Nothing that wouldn’t anger Claude accidentally and Claude seemed to be wholly uninterested in starting small talk. Claude ate in silence and once finished, stared at a map, eyebrows knitted, before he excused himself first for the night. His tent stayed illuminated the longest. Dimitri was content with watching Hilda fluster Marianne. He listened to Marianne gently scold Hilda and saw her play nervously with one of her earrings. They both excused themselves before Dimitri. Hilda gasped once and faked offence when she saw Dimitri barely had taken more than two spoons of his stew, causing Dimitri to apologize profusely before wolfing down the food he was given and Hilda to laugh.

Sleep would not come to Dimitri. The accommodations that were provided to him were better than usual but no matter how thick the material of his sleeping bag was or how soft the pillow was, his brain didn’t want to shut off. Just based on physical labour, this must have been one of the easiest days he had. Just some discussion and then he was already sent to sleep. He did not expect to be faced with past demons, didn’t think he had to question decisions he had made years ago yet again. Here he was, laying on his back and staring ahead into the dark. He wondered briefly if he should just defect. Scam the people that paid his next vacation out of their money and go into hiding. Should Miss Goneril decide to send people after him, so be it. He quickly abandoned the thought. Not only Hilda and her entire family would be after him, but also the many mages she likely harboured and the company he worked for. It was a stupid idea rooted in panic. Somewhere deep down, he was excited to see Claude again, happy that he was alive and seemed to do well, of course. He wanted to reconnect, perhaps have some closure and hash out their conflict from the past, besides the Mage Rebellion. Dimitri already cut ties with the Templars, did not see eye to eye with their lessons and practices anymore – probably hadn’t for a long time, but had been too much of a coward until the person he loved stabbed him in the eye because of it.

The flap of his tent opened and a hand balancing a mage light entered first, forcing Dimitri to stop pondering for a moment. He was alarmed but stayed as still as possible. Maybe his intruder would think he was dead. The hand turned out to be Claude. He closed the tent flap after pinning the light into a corner of the tent and kneeled next to Dimitri’s thighs.

“You think too loud, I can’t sleep,” Claude shook his head.

“Sorry.”

Claude rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat. “Can’t believe you really survived. Nothing can kill you, can it?”

“Are you here to kill me now?” It was a joke. Albeit possibly of poor taste. One that his former friend could not laugh at.  
  


Claude scoffed. “That would be a waste of money and Hilda would have my head.” If the conversation from before proved anything, it was that Claude only spoke the truth here, even if it was laced in the barest attempts at humour. He squirmed, the position uncomfortable on his knees and he must be nervous. “Listen, we’ll be together for a while now,” he paused, his gaze shifting to the light in the corner. “And we have to work together and work together well. It won’t be possible if I think you’ll stab me in the back because I stabbed you in the back.”

“You stabbed me in the eye though.”

Claude looked at him for a while, silent, “I was trying to stab your brain, actually.”

Dimitri shrugged.

“The point is, I want to make sure there is no more resentment.” Claude raised his hands above his head, accidentally hitting the tent walls. He muttered a small apology, rubbing over his knuckles.

“I don’t resent you,” Dimitri clarified. “But you resent me.”

Claude stayed silent for a while again. “That’s true.”

There was an awkward pause. Dimitri had nothing to reply to Claude anymore and the mage was wrecking his brain to get the conversation back to how he planned it, find a solution to the issue they were facing.

“There may be darkspawns in the tunnels of the ruins,” Claude stated.

“Okay.”

“Marianne can,” he stopped for a second. “She can cure blight sickness if we detect it quickly. But you need to trust her, trust us.”

Dimitri nodded.

“Do you have enough Lyrium?”

“Probably.”

“What do you do when you run out?”

Dimitri shrugged again. Claude sighed.

“I know you are not a Templar anymore, so you’re not on the other side in this Rebellion,” he shifted on his knees again. “I cannot change what I am, but you can, and you made the decision to change and I see that, so any resentment I may still have is hopefully misplaced.” Claude patted Dimitri’s knee once and started to crawl out of the tent, the light following him. “We will all make sure that you can get back home and spend the money we paid you,” he left Dimitri back in the dark again.

The former Templar would take anything Claude deemed fit to give. Every bit of closure to help Dimitri’s mind finally rest. Claude saw that Dimitri decided to leave the Order even when he was directly hurt by a mage they feared so much and must appreciate it somewhere. Never mind that Claude did hurt him without an ounce of magic.

  
Dimitri let his mind wander. If he was being honest, the fact that he was hurt by a mage without any magic involved must have been the tipping point for him leaving. People hurt other people, whether they have magic or not. Someone with a sword can cut you in half just like a mage can burn you to ashes. Magic was a tool, more or less. A tool you had to be trained to use properly, so you did not become a danger to yourself and others. Someone untrained with a sword was probably more dangerous than a seasoned soldier too.

The mercenary shuffled deeper into his bedroll, smiling secretly to himself. He was unproportionally happy about Claude telling him he won’t let him die while they were working together. It was a step in a direction, somewhere behind love and before murderous rage. A good spot. A better spot to reach the closure Dimitri sought so desperately, which he did not realize he did until he saw Claude again. Claude’s voice did not drip with venom anymore. This could work. The Maker did work in mysterious ways after all. If fate decided they should meet in an ancient ruin with possible dangerous rubble falling and darkspawns threatening to rip out their entrails to make-up, he would not stand in its way. Dangerous situations did bring people closer together after all.

Sleep found Dimitri easy now. Letting him drift off into a dreamless slumber until the sound of tents being opened woke him up.


	2. Corpses and Libraries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hilda held out an arm, beckoning them to stop; a large cliff stretched out before them. Stairs were carved into the walls, leading down even deeper than they already were. A broken bridge connected a second building on the other side. Why anyone would go through the trouble to build such an elaborate grave was beyond Dimitri. He wasn't sure if he was curious enough to see if his current companions had the answers. He could hear heavy steps and hushed voices echoing in the halls, warning of the horrors that lurked ahead. Darkspawn."
> 
> An underground bridge and awkward silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some violence in this chapter.

The stench inside the Catacombs was worse. It made sense of course. The people that build those stuck corpses into stonewalls and let them rot in there. The building itself started to decompose, exposing the rotting flesh and bones. Dimitri had to rub his nose. His stomach felt queasy. He wouldn’t be able to stomach any of the rations they took down into the Catacombs. The smell brought back memories he had long hoped to forget. _The stench of battle corpses piling upon corpses. Burned flesh. Blood._

“Dimitri,” Claude snapped Dimitri out of his memories once again. “You seem to not be curious about what exactly we’re looking for.”

Dimitri had to collect himself first. He discreetly wiped some sweat from his brow. “Not really, I probably wouldn’t understand anyway.”

Claude looked at him in silence for a while. He adjusted the strap of his staff. “Fair enough,” and they continued to walk in silence. Dimitri made it awkward again. He was unsure how to keep a conversation going with Claude now. Back in the circle, Claude would tell Dimitri everything about the world and loved to ramble for hours about the books he read, the research he conducted, and what it was like living at home before the circle. It had only been a couple of hours since they had met each other again, but Dimitri seemed to not remember how to keep Claude engaged and encourage him to continue to go on and on. He loved his voice. He still did. He wondered if Claude’s voice got a little deeper or if his mind was playing tricks.

Hilda held out an arm, beckoning them to stop; a large cliff stretched out before them. Stairs were carved into the walls, leading down even deeper than they already were. A broken bridge connected a second building on the other side. Why anyone would go through the trouble to build such an elaborate grave was beyond Dimitri. He wasn't sure if he was curious enough to see if his current companions had the answers. He could hear heavy steps and hushed voices echoing in the halls, warning of the horrors that lurked ahead. Darkspawn.

  
“Do you think you can repair the bridge?” Hilda asked.

“Yes, but then one of us would use a lot of mana,” Claude answered. “And we’re going to have to cut through darkspawn either way, whether we take the bridge or take the longer route through the stairs.”

Hilda mulled that over, “You said yesterday that we would reach the artefact faster if we take the bridge.”

“I didn’t know it was broken yesterday, the map I was looking at conveniently left that out,” Dimitri recalled Claude scribbling on a map and notes. If the map was created by those who built this, they were outdated. They were getting frustrated with each other, yet there seemed no right or wrong answer. From their safety, they could almost count how many darkspawn would await they choose to cross the bridge. If they took the stairs, they’d have everyone at their disposal, but they did not know what was hidden underneath. What if they got lost? If the darkspawn didn't kill them, surely the hunger or thirst would.

Marianne tried to mediate between them, to find the best answer for the issue but was unable to take a firm stance. Both options were absolutely terrible and could lead to a horrible death. Dimitri understood why Marianne didn’t want to pick an opinion.

Claude and Hilda turned to Dimitri, startling him by suddenly demanding his input, “What do you say we do?” They inquired.

Dimitri swallowed, tipping on his toes. “Uhm,” he made nervously. He caught the annoyed twitch in Claude’s face. He didn't want to disappoint Claude again, to anger him, but he couldn’t help but agree with the other warrior in the group. “I think we should take the bridge,” he finally answered. Claude scoffed. “If it’s faster that way, we have the option to take a rest later and if I recall correctly, Claude can fight pretty well without magic,” he touched at his eyepatch unconsciously, “and I have Lyrium, just in case.”

Claude threw his hands up in defeat, mumbling something under his breath and stepping away from them. Marianne hurried after him, reaching out a tentative hand and speaking to him in a hushed tone. Claude still hated to lose an argument. Dimitri let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Hilda gave him a friendly pat on the back and a reassuring nod before turning back to her friends. “Well then, on we go, time to repair the bridge.” Hilda poked into Claude’s side and he angrily smacked her hand away. He relented and stomped angrily onto the part of the bridge that was still holding up its structure. With terrifying power, he lifted the fallen rubble from the darkness, mending the bridge back together into a former state where it still stood proud. War cries of the Hurlocks rang through the halls, alerted by the noise of the bridge being reinstated. The bridge could’ve been broken on purpose. Dimitri readied his sword and shield and stepped in front of Claude, shielding him from the first arrow shot at them. Marianne quickly cast a barrier over them.

“Keep your mouths shut,” Hilda shouted before readying her axe and charged in to cleave the first Hurlock in half. Swallowing any of the blood could cause them to contract the blight sickness.

They quickly found a rhythm fighting on the bridge. Their enemies had only one direction to get to them so they were contained. It was easy to hack and slash them to pieces, while Marianne provided them support and let Claude catch his breath again. An ice spell flew past Dimitri, freezing a Hurlock in place that was dangerously close to decapitating him.

Hilda whirled around, back turned to the Darkspawn. “Stop casting spells, Claude!” She yelled, before pushing her lips back into a tight line and whacking the handle of her axe into the head of Hurlock to push it back, before bringing the blade down again.

Claude let out a frustrated noise, changing his stance so he would fight with his blade if he had to. Dimitri risked a glance at Claude. He looked tired, pale, and seeing the sweat on his face, the last spell he cast must have put a strain on his body. That proved to be a mistake. Hurlocks passed through the barricade Hilda and he created, closing in on Claude and Marianne. The Darkspawns must have noticed the spellcaster was one of their biggest problems. The constant refreshing of the barriers made it impossible for them to land a hit. Marianne cast a barrier on herself, fade stepping out of the chaos by reflex, leaving Claude alone in it. A barrier was thrown over him as soon as Marianne realised Claude was by himself and was able to cast a spell again. Claude stabbed through the chest of a Hurlock, hauling him into the others that were trying to overwhelm him, staggering them. Hilda and Dimitri managed to hold the further onslaught of Hurlocks back. Claude and Marianne worked together to fight off the Hurlocks that passed through the barricade Hilda and Dimitri created earlier.

Before something terrible happened, time seemed to move much slower. The way Claude was holding his staff left him with no other choice than to cut with his blade upwards, catching the Hurlock in its throat. The blood splattered on the mage’s face. He immediately fell to the floor, scrabbling at his face, trying to wipe it off in a panic. He pressed his lips tight together, squeezed his eyes shut, afraid he’d swallow any blood on accident.

Dimitri crushed the head of the last Hurlock into the rails of the bridge and rushed to Claude to help him. He grabbed Claude’s shoulder. Immediately, Claude started to struggle, flailing his arms, trying to push Dimitri off.

“It’s me, it’s me, Dimitri,” he tried to reassure Claude, but Claude shook his head. Dimitri moved him gently on all fours, so the blood would drip onto the floor instead. “I’m helping you, please don’t struggle,” Dimitri fished for his water flask and a handkerchief. He poured the water over Claude’s head to wash the blood off his face. “You’re fine, you’re fine. Did you swallow any?”

  
“I don’t think so,” Claude sniffled, moved to sit. “Did anything get into my ear?”

Marianne hurried to them, the tips of her fingers glowing so she could inspect his ears. “Nothing, everything is fine,” she sighed once, holding her palm open. Immediately Claude gave her his hand. Marianne pulled out a small dagger, running the tip of it over his hand, leaving a small cut.

Dimitri stood and turned around. _What he couldn’t see, he couldn’t judge,_ he told himself. He nudged the corpse of a Hurlock with the tip of his shoe. What a shitshow.

The adrenaline from the battle began to leave Dimitri’s system while he was pacing and drumming the tips of his fingers against his thighs. Being alone and giving the trio their privacy made Dimitri think. He analysed the last of his steps, replaying where he went wrong. If Claude contracted blight sickness, it would his fault. His fault if he died. Because he had to look at Claude because he left an opening. Whenever something terrible happened to Claude, it seemed to be Dimitri’s fault. Dimitri not paying attention, Dimitri being a coward. He remembered back in the Circle. Sexual relations between Mages and Templars were not allowed. To avoid exploitation, so they said. One time they were not careful enough. They had fallen asleep in bed together and were woken by heavy steps that were looking for Claude who was not in his room. Why they did not use Claude’s room was a question Dimitri asked himself later. It was much more plausible to find an excuse if Dimitri stumbled out of it. Claude had started to cry, to shake and dry heave. Dimitri didn’t understand, because Dimitri would surely be reprimanded for being the exploiter.

Hilda snapped her fingers into Dimitri’s face. Dimitri blinked at her, confused. He needed a bit to string reality back together. “We are taking a break,” she said and pointed at the seating area on the other side of the bridge. Marianne and Claude were already there. Claude had a blanket thrown over his head.

Dimitri nodded and followed Hilda, “Is Claude okay?”

“He’s fine. Marianne will check on him in an hour again, just to be sure.”

Dimitri let out a breath. “That’s good.”

Hilda hummed in agreement. “Give me your weapon and shield, I’ll clean them,” Hilda had done nothing to prove herself untrustworthy, so he disarmed and let her put the weapons on a pile to pour water over them. After that, she took a seat next to Marianne, forcing Dimitri to settle next to Claude. Claude worried a loose thread of the blanket between his fingers.

They sat together in awkward silence. Dimitri broke it first this time. “I’m sorry.”

Claude knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “For what now?”

“If I hadn’t turned to look at you, they wouldn’t have been able to get through to you.”

Claude shook his head. “And if I hadn’t cast a spell, Hilda wouldn’t have yelled at me and you wouldn’t have looked.”

“Oh.” Dimitri didn’t know what to answer again. Back to being quiet, it seemed. They watched Hilda and Marianne hold hands, speaking to each other in hushed voices.

“You should know why we are doing this,” Claude suddenly said. He never liked the sound of silence much.

“Okay, sure,” was the only thing Dimitri could contribute.

“What do you think? Why we are crawling through darkspawns for some artefact?”

Dimitri had many answers. The first thing his mind screamed at him was power. Old lessons about how mages will always selfishly seek power until it destroys them. The second thing that crossed his mind was simply curiosity. Claude was always hungry to find the answers to the world, always hungry to explore and discover. Even if it put himself or others in danger.

“You wouldn’t appreciate my answer” was what Dimitri settled for.

Claude barked out a dry laugh. “You’re probably right,” he hugged the blanket closer around himself. “Okay, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”

Dimitri turned to look more directly at Claude, keeping his expression neutral, but willing to listen.

“I was sent out with a group of other mages to clear out darkspawns that have started to resurface,” Claude started to explain. “We got completely overrun and only me and a friend, Lysithea, managed to survive. She caught the blight sickness and it was too late for Marianne to help her, not that the Circle knew Marianne could cure it anyways,” Claude pressed his fingers above his eyebrows, rubbing.

  
Dimitri recalled. It must have happened around the time Claude has disappeared from him. Just after they got caught. He remembered the panic in the Circle, warning of another blight that never came.

Claude’s face twisted up bitterly. “They wanted to burn her so she wouldn’t infect others. They didn’t even let us try to find a cure. Like what the fuck is the reason for forcibly educating mages when they are not allowed to do something to make life a little better?”

Dimitri did not know what to reply.

Claude took a deep breath. “We have a hunch that the people that built this might have had a way to cure blight sickness. Some sort of device, that could purify the blood perhaps.”

Dimitri put his hands together reflexively, almost muttering a prayer for Lysithea. “Is she alive?”

Claude nodded. He pulled the blanket into his face. Dimitri thought he heard a sniffle. “Yes, she is very stubborn. She refuses to die before we find a cure. We met a Dalish healer as well, who is able to slow the symptoms.”

Dimitri nodded. “That’s… good.”

Claude scoffed.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at talking.”  
  


“Obviously not.”

“I think it’s great, what you are doing.”

Claude turned to look at Dimitri, his eyes wide.

Dimitri was getting flustered. “Why are you so surprised?”

Claude shook his head, smirking. “Just thinking,” Claude tapped onto his brow ridge, mirroring the side of Dimitri’s lost eye. “Might have hit your brain after all.”

Dimitri was rendered speechless again. “Uh” was the only noise he could make.

“Point stands,” Claude grinned.

“Aw, cut poor Dimitri some slack, Claude,” Hilda chuckled. “He’s not a public speaker, but a good listener,” she rummaged through her bag, pulling out some of the rations they brought. She handed each of them a piece of jerky and crackers. She also pulled out a cup from her bag and poured water into it, handing it to Claude. “Doctor’s orders,” she winked at Marianne, who immediately started to blush. “We shouldn’t drink out of the same cup or bottle as Claude right now, so a special one just for Claude.”

“I sure feel special, being served by the magnificent, dainty Lady Goneril.”

She made an obscene gesture at Claude and bit into her jerky. Marianne neatly ripped the jerky apart to put it in between her crackers to eat. Much more proper than the Miss Goneril.

  
Dimitri contented himself with nibbling at his crackers. His stomach still felt queasy. The corpses lining the bridge, the smell, the thick underground air. He couldn’t wait to be back on the surface again. Sky. Air. Grass. Green like Claude’s eyes.

He was starting to get ridiculous again.

He grumbled to himself and shoved the cracker into his mouth.

They ate and drunk. Hilda flirted with Marianne. Claude took a nap when he was finished, and Dimitri needed about an hour to finish two crackers. Dimitri nudged his jerky towards Claude’s face after he woke up. Claude was still tired enough that he accepted the offer from Dimitri and immediately pushed the meat into his mouth, chewing.

Marianne held out her hands again and Claude offered the one that was not holding the meat. Another cut was made on Claude’s hand and Dimitri stood up once again to walk away and turn around. _What he cannot see, he cannot judge._

“All good,” Marianne clasped her hands happily together. “You’re healthy.”

Claude gave Marianna a lazy smile. “Thank you for your help,” he pursed his lips and gave Marianne a gentle kiss on the nose.

She giggled. “Healthy for now.”

Claude laughed. “Bad joke.”

The events that happened for the next couple of hours were surprisingly uneventful. They did not encounter anymore darkspawns. Any that they could have met while passing through the halls must have been lured out from the commotion at the bridge if the pile they made of them was any indication.

Dimitri was fascinated. The horrible smell from the corpses in the first building was gone. The walls seemed to be outlined with gold, reflecting the light from their torches brilliantly as if they were at the ocean’s bottom.

“Only the front of the building was for those people’s dead,” Claude explained. “Well, it is the front now. The entrance is actually on this side.”

Dimitri startled. He must have been gaping. Now he was embarrassed. Claude smirked at him but didn’t comment further. Thank god. In the past, Claude would have made fun of Dimitri, how his ears turned red, and how he would get sweaty. They weren’t back at that point yet. Not completely. Claude did already make fun of Dimitri a couple of times. He bit into his bottom lip to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Ah, there it finally is,” Claude exclaimed giddily, stopping in front of huge double-winged doors that went up all the way to the ceiling. Dimitri stared at them in awe. He had never seen such a structure. He should have maybe taken the offers on going to the balls when he was still a Templar, to represent their Circle and the Order in a good manner. He wouldn’t be so gobsmacked now. Claude pushed against the door. They barely budged. He trailed with his fingers over a round elevation in the door. “A key must enter the hole,” Claude mumbled.

  
Dimitri caught an inhale in his mouth, rounding out his cheeks. He caught a glimpse of Marianne. Both were turning red. Trying to keep a laugh in their body.

“Ugh, you’re both children,” Claude groaned. Of course, he noticed how both of them were shaking. Caught in the act, both let go of the giggles.

Hilda surprised Dimitri by looping her arm into his, pulling them shoulder to shoulder. “Ready your shield, Dimitri.”

“Oh, Uhm, okay,” Dimitri could do that. He was good at following orders.

“Hilda, you’re not going to break down the door!” Claude spread his arms to guard it. “I can make a key!”

“I’m not going to wait around however many hours you need when we can just break through these old rubbles.”

“Hilda-”

“Move,” she barked and immediately charged with Dimitri towards the door. Patience was a virtue, but Hilda was not a patient woman. She knew that if she didn’t act immediately, she could argue with Claude for hours. Arguments could be held when they were not in an underground ancient building.

“Oh fuck.” Claude scrabbled to run out of their way.

Dimitri and Hilda busted shield first through the door. The door, surprisingly enough, gave away immediately, flying open with a loud bang. Only the slightest bit of rubbles and dust set onto their bodies. Dimitri’s shield had a small crack at the border. He shook the dust out of his hair.

“Wow, would you look at that.” Claude peeked his head through to investigate the door, checking where the impact broke the door open. “Looks like the lock was already a little brittle.”

  
“Oh, who would have guessed that stone locks may be a little brittle after probably a thousand years,” Hilda mocked while picking some rubble from her hair. “Now fetch your tools and let’s get out of here.”

  
“Everything for the dear lady,” Claude bowed down low. Hilda rolled her eyes and waved him off. He gave her a crooked grin and ran off.

Dimitri let out a couple of small sneezes. Marianne touched his shoulder, worried. “Are you okay, Dimitri?”

“Ah, yes. Just some dust in my nose, don’t worry about that.”

Marianne tentatively nodded and let go of him, choosing to instead clasp her hands together in front of her. They watched as Claude flitted through the room.

It was a library, Dimitri supposed when he saw the walls stacked with towers of books. In the middle of the room, a row of desks was aligned, each adorned with a small nook that could hold a flame. At the end of the room, more tables stretched out with complicated-looking mechanical appliances stacked on them. All of the metal looked gold or bronze. Claude would sometimes giddily rush to Hilda and press books into her arms, mumbling “could be helpful”, before disappearing between the shelves again. Hilda handed the books to Dimitri and soon, he had to balance books up to his neck. How could they carry that all back to the surface?

“Got what we came here for?” Hilda called when she got impatient.

“Of course, of course,” Claude already walked back to them, a small tool in his hand that could easily fit into a pocket. It didn’t look like much – a syringe, with some wheels and a container attached. Dimitri felt weirdly disappointed. Claude noticed, of course. “It’s more interesting than it looks.” He pouted.

Dimitri could only give Claude the benefit of the doubt.

They shared the loads of books they had to carry in their bags. Claude held the syringe with clock-wheels to his chest. They tracked their way back to the surface, stepping over the massacre they left behind back through the corpse room. Dimitri couldn’t help but gag this time.

Back on the surface, Dimitri helped Hilda attach the bags of books to the saddles of their horses. Claude was deep in thought, staring at the opening to the ruins.

“You should come with us,” Hilda mentioned after she secured the last bag. Dimitri glanced at her over the saddle.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to make sure you didn’t contract the plague. We can test you at my estate with minimal magic involved.” They must have noticed. Seen how Dimitri would turn away whenever Marianna cut into Claude’s palm and offered him a possibility he felt more comfortable with.

Hilda was right. It was always possible Dimitri caught the blight sickness from just breathing the same condensed air as darkspawn, from cleaning the blood off Claude’s face or by just being really unlucky and somehow, accidentally swallowing a piece of darkspawn while they were fighting. If they would accommodate him so he could be more comfortable during the test, it was even better.

_Yet again, another offer I can’t resist._

Claude busied himself with moving a large boulder over the entrance to the catacombs with his magic. Dimitri watched him. He could now properly see the sunlight reflecting off of Claude’s skin. His face was not twisted up in bitterness anymore.

“Just making sure that nothing we may have awoken gets out,” Claude explained as he jogged back to his companions. He petted over the nose of his horse.

Hilda hummed in agreement. “Dimitri is coming with us.”

Claude frowned.

“Just to make sure we didn’t make him sick on accident.”

Claude looked at his feet, then back up to his horse’s face. The frown never left his face. “Sure, safety first,” he finally grumbled. He didn’t waste any more time and climbed into his saddle.

Dimitri could live with the reluctant agreement. Baby steps. Hilda and Claude bickered the way to her estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to yell at me on tweeter @rawmettwurst - I draw there too


	3. Estates and Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda returned the smile. “I actually have something else in mind,” she played with one strand of her hair. “I wanted to offer you a job.”
> 
> “I’m not sure-”
> 
> “Room and board will be provided by us, how much we will pay you is negotiable. If one of our scientists or healers needs help from you to retrieve something or just need you as a bodyguard, you will go with them. Most of the time, you’ll stay on standby here, though,” she explained.
> 
> It was an easy enough job. Even if his savings were full right now, the idea of having regular work, safe work, was extremely tempting. “Is Claude fine with me staying here?” Dimitri swallowed.
> 
> “Claude?” Hilda quirked an eyebrow. “No idea. If he isn’t fine with you being employed here, it’s good that this entire operation belongs to me and I make the decisions here.”
> 
> -
> 
> Dimitri gets a job offer.

Staying at Hilda’s estate was truly incredible. Dimitri knew Hilda was rich, he just did not know she was _this_ rich. The estate stretched over multiple buildings, had its own apple and grape plantation, with its wine production. Hunting grounds, a forest area, and a lake all belonged to that estate, “A gift from my brother”, she said nonchalantly, when Dimitri asked about it, flicking a strand of hair back behind her shoulder. A generous gift, surely, if Hilda spoke the truth. Of course, it had become a hub for the research Claude and his friends were conducting. New members for their cause arrived constantly. Hilda had to hire an architect and attach new buildings onto her land to house all the people. She had to offer them entertainment, a place to relax, so a tavern was built and had to hire someone for the finances. The people that didn’t want to volunteer had to get paid, after all. Rent had to be paid by those not employed by her, deals with farmers and merchants had to be made, food and resources secured, income had to be generated. A hierarchy for a company, a small town even, had to be put in place – Hilda being their reluctant leader because she paid for all this fun.

Of all the things the Circles taught Mages, they did not teach them how to deal with finances, at all. Claude was able to lead a team of scholars for his research, able to lead training drills, develop new spells, new potions. He was smart and talented in many aspects, but as soon as costs rose above a certain number, he did not know what was considered reasonable. Hilda told Dimitri about the first time Claude suggested a project for an arcane tower, with special materials, build to harness the Fade better, or whatever. When she heard the cost of that project, she almost passed out. Claude was not allowed to talk with their architect anymore and Hilda had to put herself one rank above the Apostate’s First Enchanter and be more hands-on with the people using her money. She received the ominous title “The Owner”. Now, whenever Claude wanted something, he had to go through their financial advisor first and apparently, they didn’t get along well. So, Claude asked only for absolutely necessary material. It worked out great. Hilda didn’t have to argue with Claude about money anymore. Her best idea yet. Her no-nonsense and hatred for unnecessary work made her a master at delegation. Her upbringing could not have hurt either.

All in all, it seemed like a lot, for someone who just wanted to help some runaway friends.

She laughed when Dimitri asked if she was bothered, “Anything for my dear Marianne, which in turn means anything for Claude,” she picked at her nail polish. “Besides, I used to have more money than I knew what to do with. My family is pleased I turned this whole operation into,” she paused at that, taking a breath, “a company of sorts, I guess. Doing something with the cards I have been dealt with. We are actually turning quite a profit now.”

She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and left him alone in the gardens then. It quickly became Dimitri’s favourite spot in the mansion, where he rested most of the time, while he waited for the test results of a possible blight. It was pretty. Sitting right next to the flowers. Their smell seemed to calm him down.  
  
During his wait, Hilda gave him a room, provided him with food and care. She refused to accept money from Dimitri. She almost seemed offended when he offered to pay for the room and supplies.

The results for his test came quickly after his blood was mechanically taken. The healers sat him down and drove a needle into his arm to fill three. They cleaned the entire room after Dimitri was released. Two days later a healer politely knocked at his door to inform him he was completely healthy.

Now that Dimitri had received his results, there was nothing that would require him to test Hilda’s generosity further. He started to pack and mentally prepared himself to say goodbye to Marianne, Hilda and _Claude._ These few days he stayed at Hilda’s place; he didn’t even see Claude at all. He saw Marianne talking with horses and feeding the birds, saw Hilda barely listening to the financing guy and every other person that took shelter in her mansion, but he never saw Claude. Unconsciously, he may have avoided the library on purpose. He knew Claude’s favourite spots in any building where those filled with books. Claude must have been busy translating the books they had found, busy with tinkering on the artefact they had found. Somewhere deep down, he knew where Claude was. Now that he wasn’t forced to anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to seek out Claude.

Just when he slung his bags over his shoulder, he noticed Hilda standing in the doorway, watching him. “You’re leaving already?”

Dimitri readjusted the strap on his bag. “I know that I’m healthy, so I thought it’s time I stop freeloading,” he gave Hilda a small smile. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Hilda returned the smile. “I actually have something else in mind,” she played with one strand of her hair. “I wanted to offer you a job.”

“I’m not sure-”

“Room and board will be provided by us, how much we will pay you is negotiable. If one of our scientists or healers needs help from you to retrieve something or just need you as a bodyguard, you will go with them. Most of the time, you’ll stay on standby here, though,” she explained.

It was an easy enough job. Even if his savings were full right now, the idea of having regular work, safe work, was extremely tempting. “Is Claude fine with me staying here?” Dimitri swallowed.

“Claude?” Hilda quirked an eyebrow. “No idea. If he isn’t fine with you being employed here, it’s good that this entire operation belongs to me and I make the decisions here.”

Dimitri sighed.

“Look, the more Mages, scientists, and healers we get, the more mercenaries we need. Most of those scholars don't know how to fight and I’m not willing to let them be eaten by some wild Mabari just because they needed to collect this very special plant to test,” she took a couple of steps towards Dimitri. “Not everyone feels comfortable working with Mages, especially Apostates. You, however, seem to do just fine with them,” she eyed Dimitri up and down. “Whatever happened between you and Claude doesn't concern me.”

“The other Mages might not feel comfortable with me because I used to be a Templar.”

She pointed at Dimitri’s face, “Used to be.”

Dimitri looked quizzically at her.

“You’re not the first ex-Templar I’ve employed. Whatever the reason you left is, you disagreed to some extend with the Chantry and the Order. Most can appreciate that.”

Dimitri could not deny that.

“If you need to lie a little about how much you support the rebellion or why you really left the Order, so be it,” she shrugged.

Dimitri was not sure he could do that.

“We can provide you with Lyrium and if you ever want to quit, we have many healers who would be happy to support you and guide you through it,” Hilda gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned to leave. “Sleep on it and let me know tomorrow.”

It was not a request, but a demand, and Dimitri would follow it, even if it was just to be polite. He let his bag fall to the floor.

Now that Dimitri was confronted with a different option than his original plans, he realised that he never gave the Lyrium problem the thought that was necessary. What if he couldn’t quit Lyrium if the withdrawal was just too much to handle? Would he travel constantly back to the tavern under his company to get Lyrium from the smugglers should he run out? The cost would cut his vacation short, surely. The price of Lyrium from smugglers was definitely inflated and they may raise the price even more if they saw Dimitri’s desperation. For the sake of his internal argument, he assumed that the Lyrium Hilda would provide him with was clean. It would be a lot cheaper and safer to consume. If he wanted to give quitting another go, he’d do so in a controlled environment. He’d have healers that could take care of him. He was also sure there were a bunch of scientists who were extremely curious to see the effects of Lyrium. He’d be constantly monitored. He’d be safe.

What was up with all those offers that Dimitri would be stupid to reject lately?

His feet carried him to the gardens. He wandered further into them than he usually would, away from the flower beds to the large area of carefully trimmed grass where training dummies and targets have been set up.

Claude was training there. Using a bow and hitting the targets with terrifying accuracy. His staff was stuck in the ground with its blade. Claude didn’t wear the robe over his clothing like he did in the catacombs. Dimitri could see how Claude’s body changed over the years, see how the Mage’s shirt stretched over his back and the muscles shifting. How his shoulders got wider, how his legs started to fill out and his thighs pressed against the seams of his boots.

Claude noticed Dimitri staring, of course, with how Dimitri was burning another hole into his ass with his eye. With an annoyed sigh, Claude turned around. “Can I help you?”

Dimitri flushed. Caught. He stuttered, before he was able to finally find an excuse for why he was ogling him. “Just wondering why you train with a bow.”

Claude raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but answered nonetheless. “My instructor taught me that if I only rely on my magic in a fight, I might as well roll over and die.”

Dimitri nodded. He stood in silence next to Claude, watching him nook an arrow, ready his bow, and let go, hitting the target. Claude had just readied another arrow when Dimitri broke the silence. “If I remember correctly, you were the only one with a staff blade.”

Claude lowered his bow, turning to look at Dimitri, unimpressed. “Yes, you are allowed to have one as a knight enchanter.”

“You were allowed to become a knight enchanter?”

“Why- yes, of course?” Claude’s eyebrow knit together puzzled before he realized why Dimitri was surprised. “Sure, I was, opinionated, but I could hold my tongue when speaking to the important people. The only real big rules I broke were with you.”

Dimitri pressed his lips together. The guilt was gnawing at him again and rendered him unable to speak. It was always at the back of his head, keeping him up at night and distracted him during the day. Whenever Dimitri saw Claude, the mage would – on accident or purpose – point his finger right at the mistakes Dimitri made, pushing and twisting it in the wound. Dimitri apologised, barely audible.

Claude waved his apology off and busied himself twirling an arrow in his hand. “Will you just stand there and stare?” It came out harsher than he had intended. Claude cringed when Dimitri apologised again. “No, I mean, do you want to do something?” Claude tapped with the arrow against his head a couple of times. “Like spar!” He pointed the arrow at Dimitri’s chest. “Do you want to spar with me?”

Dimitri stared at the arrow. “Uh, sure.”

Claude beckoned Dimitri to follow. Ever dutiful, Dimitri, of course, followed him. “Swords,” Claude announced the rules when they reached an area stacked with training weapons and a small dirt patch marked with chalk. The grass must have been destroyed by the constant trampling of the boots on that specific area. They were lucky, that no one was already training here. “And no magic,” Claude handed Dimitri a training sword.

“I will try to avoid casting spells,” Dimitri said solemnly, Claude scoffed at the joke. A small smile was teasing at his lips. Dimitri balanced the sword in his hand, gave it a couple of swings and circled it in his hand. It was much lighter than his real sword, of course. It felt strange to wield. He was not used to this weight, but he felt confident that he could keep up with Claude, probably beat him. Even if Claude was a knight enchanter, Dimitri had a couple more years of training.

Claude stood opposite of Dimitri. The stance Claude held seemed relaxed. His body was twisted to the side, one foot pointing at Dimitri, his sword held loosely in his hand, resting by his hip. “Ready?”

“Always.”

Dimitri was surprised by how fast Claude was. Mages were considered both extremely dangerous and weak and frail, even though Claude had already proven to be more than able to handle himself without any magic or spells. That strange ambivalent idea was so deeply ingrained in his mind that Claude was able to catch him off-guard, almost painfully ramming the sword between his ribs. Dimitri stumbled barely out of reach, before moving to counter.

Claude dodged instead of blocking. Dimitri was heavier and each of his hits had more weight. If Claude had chosen to block, he'd have tired himself out quickly and he might have received damage to his arm just from the vibration. Dimitri learned quickly that with a sword, Claude preferred to be nimble on his feet, move and strike quickly. He fought similar to the healers in his mercenary company if they needed to fight. Trying to receive as little damage as possible. If a healer got hurt, who could keep the entire group alive? Claude also fought surprisingly dirty. He kicked for Dimitri’s shins, stepped on his toes, elbowed him in the ribs. A smart way to fight, if your opponent was physically bigger and stronger, Dimitri supposed.

This is also how he landed on his ass. Claude saw an opening and slammed into Dimitri’s stomach with his shoulder. The momentum caused Claude to fall on all fours, but before Dimitri could scramble back to his feet, Claude had already crawled over to straddle him, pin him to the ground and hold the training sword to his throat. It was messy, it almost looked like children wrestling, rather than trained warriors having a match.

They needed a moment to catch their breath.

“You underestimated me,” Claude finally managed to huff.

“I did.” It was no use to deny that. Dimitri saw the flashes of anger in Claude’s face whenever Dimitri’s eye widened in surprise.

Claude lowered his sword, slinking back into a more relaxed position. Dimitri became suddenly keenly aware of Claude sitting on top his hips, of how his chest rose from his laboured breathing, of the way his thighs pressed against him. Dimitri felt adrenaline running through his fingertips, felt heat pooling in his belly. It would be too easy to slip his hands under the stockings Claude wore under his boots to protect the cotton of his pants. Dimitri balled his hands into fists, pushing his nails into the palms for just a second before he moved and pushed Claude off him.

“Let’s have a rematch,” Dimitri grumbled, grabbing the training sword again, keeping his eye trained on the ground. He needed to hit something, to get rid of that unwanted energy.

Claude huffed, twirling his own training sword in his hands. “Or we could do something else.”

Dimitri looked up at Claude’s face again. He noticed now how flushed and stuff the Mage was. Dimitri was all ears.

“We could – I could show you my room.”

And Dimitri didn’t need to think about it twice before he accepted and dropped the training sword.

They moved calmly but swiftly. Dimitri always stayed a couple of steps behind Claude to avoid raising any suspicious glances and rumours. Besides, like this Dimitri, could stare at Claude’s ass while they were climbing the stairs, without obviously doing so. He really liked the boots and stockings.

They closed the door and already Claude pushed Dimitri against it. He dragged Dimitri down by the back of his neck to kiss him roughly. Dimitri let out a surprised gasp at the resurge of aggression. He needed a second to match Claude’s pace, to push back against the kiss and grab his hips to pull him up and closer.

“You got bigger,” Claude mumbled against his lips. “Wonder if your cock got bigger too.”

Dimitri let out an amused huff. “Only one way to find out.” He pushed against Claude’s chest until his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto his back. Dimitri quickly started to work on the buttons of Claude’s top.

Once both shrugged off the first layer of clothing, they had to stop just to stare at each other. All the electricity, the tension, suddenly gone as they accessed each other’s bodies. It had been a few years since they had last seen any part of their bodies’ nude. They changed of course. Grew up between the years they missed. New scars, new muscles.

Claude reached out tentatively and let the tips of his fingers trace over the scars on Dimitri’s torso. He hovered over the one on his chest, tapping against it once. A large burn scar, a stab wound almost perfectly in the middle of it. “Who tried to kill you?”

“Apart from you?”

  
Claude glared at him.

Dimitri sighed, before moving to roll off Claude, laying down next to him. “Just bandits.”

“What did they do?”

“They settled into an abandoned fort, terrorized the village and all the merchants that were passing through,” Dimitri closed his eye as he was recalling the story. “Some other mercenaries and I were paid to get rid of them, so we did. They had a mage with them that burned through my chest plate. Then someone stabbed me in the chest.”

Claude stayed silent for just a second, processing. “Luckily you kept the nipple,” he said and flicked it.

“Ouch,” Dimitri covered it with his hand. “Very thin skin, be careful.”

Claude hummed, pursing his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Dimitri decided to not take his hand off for now. He knew Claude well enough, knew Claude would smack his nipple again the moment he could. Dimitri eyed Claude, seeing his scars on his torso. A large, pink discoloration stretched along his stomach, with burns as well. “What happened on your stomach?” Dimitri asked.

“Ah, this,” Claude touched it. “I got caught in a crossfire with the rebels and templars, got hit with an ice spell, some frost burns.”

Dimitri nodded. They both lived dangerous lives and it showed on their body. Their bodies were trained and toned, scarred. Hopefully, they would rest sometime and retire; something Dimitri was working towards constantly.

With how Claude was facing him, he couldn’t see the scars on his back, but Dimitri already knew he had some. He had seen the first ones from when Claude got punished for not abiding the curfew for one too many times. Dimitri just wanted to know if Claude had more of those scars on his back. Was whipped again after they stopped talking.

Claude told him that after you pass the Harrowing, it was a less common form of corporal punishment. Dimitri was not sure if it was common for circles to whip mages if they didn’t respect the rules or if this was just something that their knight-commander was fond of. It didn’t do her any favours in the end. Dimitri shuddered slightly, remembering when he woke up, by miracle, stumbled through the empty building and saw her head on a pike, overseeing the corpses lining the entry way to the circle. He wondered if she had shown the mages more kindness, she would have in turn been given mercy.

“What are you thinking about?” Claude nagged and nudged an insistent finger against the hand that covered Dimitri’s nipple. Dimitri caught it with his free hand and made a scolding sound.

  
“Just the past.”

“Nostalgic?”

Dimitri shook his head. “Not really,” he mumbled. He let go of Claude’s finger to use his hand to trace over Claude’s forehead instead, “I sadly rarely think of happier times.”

Claude stared at Dimitri silently for a while, “Yeah,” is what he decided to settle on. He did not quip back this time, he just accepted Dimitri’s answer for what it was.

They just rested next to each other in silence. It was comfortable. Just breathing. They fell asleep like that.

Dimitri woke up maybe an hour later, to Claude mumbling and panting. It was something he had gotten used to when they were still at the circle together – the reason they didn’t get caught for so long, because Claude always woke Dimitri up like that, until that one time he didn’t. Claude had told Dimitri about the fade and demons trying to make deals with him. Fear and rage apparently were the most interested in the mage, leaving him to deal with nightmares most of the time.

Dimitri gently put his hand on his head, stroking with his thumb over his sweaty head, just like he used to do. It was not his goal to wake Claude up, only to give him an anchor to this world, something he could cling to when firmly saying “no”. The one time he actively tried and managed to wake Claude up, Claude was confused and panicked, didn’t know if he still was in the fade or not, if Dimitri was a demon or not, so Dimitri had learned not to do that anymore and offer his support more subtly, differently, and wait until Claude woke up by himself.

Claude blinked awake slowly. He let out a huff and rolled onto his side. His breathing calmed down and his body started to visibly relax when he realised, he was not in the fade anymore. Dimitri busied himself with tugging Claude’s boots off his legs and properly tucking him into bed.

Claude mumbled something that sounded like, “thank you” and he nuzzled his cheek into the pillow. “Didn’t even see the dick though.”

Dimitri snorted, “It’s not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that; one unlucky arrow and it’s gone.”

“Don’t say that,” Dimitri choked.

Claude hummed, amused, and smiling to himself. He began to drift off again. Dimitri pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face before getting up and dressing to retire to his own room.

Dimitri decided at that moment, that he would take Hilda’s job offer. He would stay.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me on twitter @rawmettwurst I also draw on there!
> 
> I will do Illustrations for this fiction and turn it into a PDF Graphic Novel-ish thing as I go.


End file.
